


Baking For Dummies (and Cowards)!

by PinkAfroPuffs



Series: Cowardly Kings, Forgotten Heroes [2]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Baking, Coffee, F/M, Fluff, Lunch, Mutual Pining?, Original Character(s), Stupidity, because. im in love with him., i also want. more overtly romantic. romani/ritsuka, im STILL figuring this man out be patient with me, yeah there's a question mark sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAfroPuffs/pseuds/PinkAfroPuffs
Summary: There's a lonely space around him that can't be hidden by the gentlest of smiles, or fixed by even the sweetest pastry. Maybe there's room, somewhere, at the end of the world or near the ever-stretching expanse of time, for a true friend. Or maybe something else......but for now, the only space near him with an open spot is "lunch".





	Baking For Dummies (and Cowards)!

Baking is a lot of fun, especially when Ifumi knows there’s no shortage of people who’ll eat it. Though Servants don’t _ have _ to eat, most of them are very fond of it, and even bother her for a little TLC in the kitchen. 

It _ is _ nice to bake for them, but more than Servants, Ifumi finds it a bit more rewarding to visit the staff with her creations. Given that they probably won’t spare her feelings because they actually have taste buds to protect, she usually gauges them more closely for opinions on how she can improve. Her favorite member of the staff, though, is in for a special treat.

The room is completely empty when she peeks inside of it, save for Doctor Romani in his chair. Everyone else has either gone on break or is in the cafeteria; as per the norm, he’s clicking through the various data and reports in front of him, scratching his head a bit and fluffing his peach-colored bangs as he does ever so often to think. The atmosphere seems somewhat abysmal to her, as it’s entirely silent save the click now and again, only punctuated by the pause and slurp of Roman’s third cup of coffee that day.

What a lonely picture to look at. As such, she takes a moment to use the quiet room to her advantage, by whispering, “_ Romaaaaaaan. Roman…….” _ from the door. 

He doesn’t even look to where her voice is coming from; in fact, at first, he looks a mite panicked as he looks up and then left and right, just missing her form by a hair. “Oh, no, not the voices again,” he whines, and Ifumi covers her mouth as he presses both his hands together in prayer. “I’m sorry mom and dad, I _ promise _ not to eat so much cake before bed anymore-”

“Roman! No! It’s just me!” Ifumi scoffed, then waltzed into the room with her own confection in tow. With one hand, she pulled at the fluff of her afro puff on the back of her head; in the other, she carried a covered plate with a fresh cinnamon roll on top. “Thought I’d pay you a visit.”

“Oh, Ifumi!” Did he suddenly seem more cheerful? He straightened in his chair, suddenly alert. It made her realize he had really bad posture when he was alone. Figures. “What can I do for you?”

“You always ask that, silly,” she waved her hand. “But if you’re hearing voices, maybe you should...I don’t know, take a break?”

He laughed before miming her gesture, waving his hand at her in dismissal before he picked up his coffee cup. “I will, don’t worry. What’s that?”

She sort of leaned away from him. “...I don’t know. If you’re having problems with eating too much cake, maybe I shouldn’t give you this…”

At the mention of “cake”, his eyes lit up. “Hm? A what? Oh, I don’t have any- I’m sure it’s fine, can I have it?”

Ifumi tries not to smile. He looks so earnest. It’s hard to say no to him at times like this, even if it’s over something silly, like the cinnamon rolls she baked. “I made something sweet, but it isn’t cake. Do you want it?”

“You’ve been _ baking _ and you didn’t tell me?!” He exclaimed. “That’s...that’s a little mean, don’t you think? You know I’d want some!”

“It doesn’t matter if you _ want _ something if you shouldn’t have it,” she chastised. “You take care of everyone’s health but yourself, so I wanted to bring you something...but if it’s just going to raise your blood sugar or whatever-”

“This entire situation is raising my blood pressure, if that’s what you’re asking,” he admitted with a sigh.

“-then I’ll just keep it to _ myself _.” She threatened, moving the covered plate to one side as she crossed her arms.

Admittedly, she felt a bit like a sadist whenever he pouted at her; there was something refreshingly cute about that look, the roundness of his face and gentle slump of his shoulders as he leaned forwards some, gloved hands on his knees… something about it just made her want to give him a big kiss on the cheek. Or something. 

Ugh! She couldn’t really say no to that face, could she? “...well. Because I’m feeling generous, I’ve decided to give it to you anyway,” she tried to ignore how his eyes lit up, “but! You can only have half now and half later.”

He contemplated this kind of ‘deal’ with that half pout of his before leaning back some, one hand on his chin as he closed his eyes. “Only half _ would _be healthier, wouldn’t it...That should be fine, I think.”

It better be. She’d heard about his eating a whole cake before and calling it ‘lunch’, after all. “For a doctor, you’re really bad with your own health.” And for such a lanky guy, he really put away sweets like nobody’s business!

“Ah,” he sort of laughed nervously, “I’m pretty sure that’s just what all doctors are like.”

“Fair.” The covered plate made a little _ tap _ when she set it on the table. “My dad was a nurse, so I sort of get the idea. Do you always spend lunch in here, though?” She’d visited him so often that she should have an answer by now, but between the rayshifting and changing histories, it was sometimes a bit difficult to keep certain things straight in her mind. Maybe that was a side effect. 

He doesn’t answer this, instead lifting his mug to his lips, eyes darting away as he swivels just slightly in his chair before he gives a polite laugh and says, “You said your father was a nurse?”

Funny that he wasn’t even trying to play at ‘changing the subject’. Sometimes, he was uncomfortably heavy-handed. “Yes. Before his accident,” she answered, cutting the roll in half. 

“Hm.” Was all he said. Then, “What kind? Or, maybe you don’t know...”

“O.R.,” she answered, deciding to play along. If it bothered him so much to be scolded, she’d oblige for now. But only for now. “Used to do all of the really gross stuff, you know? And he’d tell us about it at the dinner table when I was little. There was one with-” She paused, glancing up at him to gauge his expression. “...I know you’re a doctor, but do you really want to hear this while you eat?”

He smiled a little bit. “If I had a weak stomach, I wouldn’t have become a doctor in the first place,” he answered gently. Without even pausing in between, his eyes glittered and he picked half of the pastry off of the plate and bit into it. “Mm.” A sigh escaped him. If possible, she could swear he was melting into the taste of the pastry. It made her feel a little flustered, and her hands flew back into her hair to show it. “You were going to keep _ this _ from me...I’m glad to be alive….”

“I’m sure you have an iron stomach, now that I think about it,” she sighed. “But I don’t think that would mean anything, if I told you about that time where we were eating meatloaf and he started telling us about the oozing-” She stopped, gauging his expression. Ironically, he did look a tiny bit green, chewing a bit slower- though, he seemed determined to prove his point and swallowed. “.....puss.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Right, I see your point.”

“I knew you would!” Triumphant, she pressed her hands together and smiled. “Um, while I’m here, have you been drinking enough water? You drink more coffee than I do,” she leaned towards him, glancing over at the trash and the door to the common rooms behind him. “I don’t see any water bottles in the trash can…”

“Dear me, you’d think I was _ your _ patient!” He exclaimed, and then he groaned a bit. “But I guess you’re right? I’ll remedy that immediately…”

“Good! You’re young! You need your kidneys!” Ifumi joked- or, half-joked, really. He really did need those. Dialysis was scary.

“Okay, okay!” He put his hands up in surrender. “I’m starting to think you just like scolding me, at this point.”

What a peculiar thing to say. She only scolded because she cared, after all. On that note, maybe she did like it. But that might be another problem altogether. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around?”

“What…!” A blush brushed across his cheeks, highlighting the red in his hair, as though he was so startled by the accusation it embarrassed him. Or maybe it was that it was true. Ifumi wasn’t sure. “That’s a little much, don’t you think?!”

“Not really,” she smiled. “Being scolded is a lot like receiving love from someone, right?”

...ah. Wait. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that? The words were starting to embarrass her, too-

“You’re right, that was a little much,” she amended hastily. “Forget what I said. Just forget all of it.” Geez, she shouldn’t make fun of him for blushing. She was damn near doing the same thing. “A-Anyway, uhm, I should probably put this away for you. Wouldn’t want you to eat the other half too early, right?”

It was here he cleared his throat. “You aren’t going to eat it yourself?”

Surprise. Her eyebrows went up without her permission, and she sort of just stood there for a moment, in front of his chair, staring at him as he covered his mouth with his hand, face still a bit pink from before. “Huh?”

  
“Well-” The chair sort of swiveled away from her, though she could still see his face. “You asked earlier if I always ate in here by myself. But-” He seemed to have trouble finding the words for it, and refused to look at her. “I wouldn’t mind if you stopped in once in a while, like this.”

  
‘Wouldn’t mind’ huh? Why wouldn’t he just say what he meant? If he wasn’t so cute, she might get really upset with him. Or maybe she still would. Time would tell. Still, she grabs one of the empty chairs from the back wall of the room and scoots it over to where he’s sitting in before plopping herself into it. “You want me to come by for lunch everyday?”

“Not…! Every day-” He amended, a little sheepish. “If you had time, I wouldn’t turn you away, is all.”

Ugh. “...everyday.” She told him firmly. “I’ll come everyday at lunch, to make sure you’re drinking water. And that your kidneys are working fine.”

He let out a very nervous laugh, eyes closing as he rubbed the back of his neck, his gloved hand carefully threading through his long ponytail as he pulled it over to one shoulder. “I can’t really say no to that, can I?”

“Nope,” she answered, then took a bite of the roll. “Anyway, do you want to hear more about that operation, or should I try for a different kind of story?”

“Different, please.”

“You’ll have to be specific, Romani! I’m not a book!”

**Author's Note:**

> trying to figure out roman because yes. i do love him. i basically just attach myself to any man with single dad or big brother energy. that's my whole thing. i love it. im a bitch with good taste. praise me!


End file.
